The Meaning of Awesome
by BirdieInATree
Summary: Gilbert just wants to get into Alfred's party, so he asks Alfred's sister, Mathilde, to it. Things don't go as planned, with an angry Frenchman, pranks gone awry, and his own feelings getting in the way. Wait, what was that last one? Prussia/Fem!Canada
1. Chapter 1

_I really prefer het pairings; I'm not going to lie. Don't like, don't read._

_I don't understand this pairing at all, but it's so cute! Also, I apologize for the stupid title. I couldn't think of anything…_

_Finally, I've emphasized Canada being considered invisible and downplayed Prussia's attention span. This is done purely for humor._

_Yes, Mrs. Persephone is Mama Greece. No, I don't know who she's married to, or if she even is._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia._

* * *

><p>Mathilde is not good with people.<p>

Really, she doesn't mind so often, since it gets her away from her brother and his friends.

Well, except when she met Gilbert Beilschmidt.

Gilbert, you see, was considerably more social, but at the same time only had a couple of close friends. He was loud, obnoxious, and never stopped using the word "awesome". Although his family was actually German, he had lived in New Prussia for a while and just started calling himself "Prussian" despite not being born there and living there for less than a year.

No one really tried to understand him anymore.

Neither did Mathilde, which could be why all this happened the way it did.

It started when her brother, Alfred, decided to plan a party. It was that time in the school year when nothing was going on; exams were too far to worry about and classes were in a bit of a lull, so obviously _something _reasonably exciting had to happen.

How Yao got him that many fireworks and Roderich booked that band for it, she'll never know.

Alfred was quite notorious for his parties.

So, Mathilde was just waiting to see who wasn't going to be there so she could go stay with them.

Gilbert, on the other hand, was in quite a different situation.

And that is where our story begins.

* * *

><p>"Come on guys! Al can't just not invite me!"<p>

Francis gave him a pitying look, "Ah, but that is, how may I say, fate's design?"

Antonio agreed less dramatically, "For once you should listen to Francis. But seriously, I only got in because he and Lovina were friends." he stared off a bit, "I think she might have blackmail or something…"

Gilbert slammed his hands on the lunch table, "I'm being completely serious! Why didn't he invite me?"

The both gave him a blank look before saying, "Roderich booked the band." and then went back to eating their respective lunches.

"And…?"

They exchanged a look before Antonio shrugged. Francis put an arm on the "Prussian's" shoulder, "You see, _mon ami_, Roderich booked it in exchange for your… lack of invitation."

Gilbert's jaw dropped visibly.

"I think you broke him." Antonio said, hesitantly poking him with his fork.

Francis shrugged, "He'll have a plan made before Chemistry."

* * *

><p>In fact, he didn't have a plan until the end of the day.<p>

His brother was busy in the Science lab, so he had some time to kill before he could leave. Normally he would hang out with Francis and Antonio, but the former was also in the lab and the latter was on a date with the older Vargas sister.

So he went into the nearest classroom and tossed his bag into a desk so he could…

"Ow!"

_Huh?_

He apparently threw his bag _on a person_.

The Awesome Gilbert does _not _do that sort of thing.

"I'm sorry! I didn't see you there!" he said, hurrying over to the girl.

She smiled a bit, handing him his bag. "It's okay. It happens all the time, really!"

Gilbert, in an effort to be considered awesome and relieve boredom at the same time, flopped down in the teacher's rolling chair and wheeled himself in front of the girl's desk. "So, what's your name?"

The girl sighed, looking a little tired for some reason. "Mathilde Williams; I'm in your Chemistry and World History classes. I'm also Alfred Jones' half-sister and Francis Bonnefoy's cousin." The lines sounded rehearsed, but caught his attention.

"That's right, I guess Francis did say something about driving his cousin home today..." he responded, buying time more than anything else as plans formed in his mind.

She seemed pretty happy to have something to talk about. "Yes, Alfred was busy."

"I hear he's having a party next week." Gilbert said with a smirk. Oh yes, he knew exactly what to do now.

"It looks like it. I'd really like it if he'd stop having them at the house…" She started, but stopped as though she felt she'd said too much.

Gilbert couldn't relate. "I don't think I've seen you at any parties."

"I don't go to many…" she said in her quiet voice. It was very gentle, and Gilbert found it easy to listen to.

_That could come in handy._ He responded, "Too bad." And then he flashed a smile, "I'd love to see you at one sometime."

She blushed a little at that, "Uh, thank you?"

He sighed, "Well, I should probably get going. West should be done now." An idea hit him then, and he couldn't be more proud of his mind at that point. "Come on, the awesome me shouldn't be seen walking alone."

The first day they really met, he accidentally left her in a hallway.

But that was okay, he still had a week.

* * *

><p>The next day he met her at her locker.<p>

Of course, that meant he had to pace around the school for a while, but Ludwig always insisted on getting there early so he had time.

Finally he saw her, near the locker of one of the people he avoided as much as possible.

Ivan Braginsky.

So, at a distance, he called. "Good morning, Mathilde!"

_Good job Gil, that didn't sound stalker-like at all._

But it actually worked.

She was entirely surprised that someone was talking to her, and smiled and waved back.

He didn't notice, but she kept smiling all morning.

At lunch, he waited to walk in until he'd seen her so he could end up beside her in the lunch line.

In between piles of grease being splattered onto their plates, he tried to start up a conversation.

"So, Mattie, which classes do we have together again?" _Oh yeah, great move._

She looked a bit startled, but answered, "Chemistry and World History. Did you finish the World History homework?"

"There was homework?"

Apparently that was funny, because she laughed a bit.

He had planned to find out where she usually sat, but was tugged into his usual seat by Francis.

There's no need to mention Antonio. As mentioned earlier, he had a date with Lovina the night before, so he was sort of dreamily poking at the grease stained chicken on his plate, oblivious to the world.

"Gilbert, I have a very important question for you." the Frenchman said as they sat across from one another, his eyes narrowed a bit.

"Uh, what?"

"Why did Mathilde look like _that_," he pointed to Antonio, "on the way home yesterday, after talking to you?"

Gilbert smirked, "I just came up with a great idea to get into Alfred's party, that's all."

"You're going to hurt my—"

"No! Just get on her good side. I might ask her out, who knows?" he shrugged. "Anyway, people go on first dates without getting together all the time. No big deal."

Francis, who was well known to ask girls (and boys) out all the time with no promise of a second date, couldn't really argue. He sighed, "Just… don't hurt her."

"I never planned on it." he said. "Hey, Antonio! Stop drooling and help me with this World History thing!"

* * *

><p>For World History, he planned to just switch seats so that he could sit next to her.<p>

Then he realized he'd been sitting next to her all year.

The teacher, a tired Greek woman, didn't even stand up at her desk. "Class, please find a partner to check the homework." And then she sat down and went back to dozing.

A cat jumped into her lap, but everyone had stopped wondering about how they found their way in.

"Found their way" was what the teacher said, at least.

Anyway, Gilbert turned his desk to face Mathilde's. The Canadian, on the other hand, was searching the room forlornly for a partner. That is, until she realized Gilbert was there.

"Oh, uh…"

"We're partners."

"…thank you." she said, and he couldn't help but smile—No, smirk.

"No problem! I think I make an awesome partner… for this class!" he amended, but she didn't catch the innuendo.

"Did you do the homework?"

"…Antonio did."

(For an update on the Spaniard: He was currently in the back corner of the room with Lovina. Since the Italian wasn't cursing, we can only assume she had been… silenced, for the moment. Gilbert would later remember the reason he usually partnered with Antonio.)

Mathilde sighed. "That's okay. We'll go over it so you can pass the test on Friday."

"There's a test on Friday?" he asked, but then something else hit him. "Wait, you'll actually help me pass?"

"Yes and of course. Why not? Usually I just check my work by myself and then…" Actually, she wasn't sure what she did. If someone did notice her, she usually had a pleasant conversation. If they didn't… well, sometimes she would hold one of Mrs. Persephone's cats.

At her blank look, he said, "I guess I should try to pass this class." It wasn't like the class was worth failing; what with how easy it was if he could just pay attention.

That should explain everything about his grades,

"Alright, so Johann Reuchlin was a leading author in the Reformation..." she started, flipping to the chapter.

Gilbert cringed, "You pronounce that 'Yohaan Raow-chlin." He emphasized the German "ch".

Mathilde looked at him funny, but pronounced it slowly and decently. Gilbert would like to stress that "decently".

At his dismissive response, she added, "I could lapse into French."

"So about this Reformation…"

The next class with her was in Chemistry, giving him one class period to start planning. That is, until he realized he had to pay attention in Gym or he'd get hit in the face with a basketball.

That really hurt the first couple of times.

He had quite the ingenious plan when he sat down at his usual lab table and faced the teacher.

Of course, he didn't get to use it.

The teacher, who was known only as "Grandpa Augustus" to everyone, usually in their respective native language—they had no idea how he knew to respond, it had become almost a game to see which ones he didn't know—stood to begin conducting the class.

…which promptly raised the question, "Why in the world is our principal conducting the Chemistry class?"

Vasch was the one to voice this question, somewhat exasperated at the latest antics in the school.

"Well, you see, I gave your regular teacher the day off." Grandpa Augustus said, as if that explained everything.

Gilbert spoke up, "Not that you're not awesome or anything Opa, but why not just get a substitute?"

"Well, I wanted to mess with the Mentos and Coke as some scientific nonsense and this seemed like the easiest way!"

The class murmured something in surprise.

"Oh, I guess she didn't tell you… Well, find your usual partner and follow me outside!"

Alfred was his usual partner in this class.

Decision-making time…

He could have an awesome time with Alfred causing havoc and maybe convince him to let him 'crash' the party unnoticed, or he could partner up with Mathilde and continue his current plan…

Mathilde, who was currently looking around the room a lot like she had in World History, sighing as she waited for whoever couldn't fit into their usual group to spot her, if they did at all…

Alfred tapped him on the shoulder, "Dude, I hope you're thinking what I'm thinking here!"

"That we should find different partners and try _two _plans at once?" he tried with a, possibly desperate, smile.

"Woah! I never thought of that! Okay, but I get to aim for Ivan this time!"

He honestly hadn't thought that would work.

"Mattie! Come on!" he said, and she hurried over to him gratefully.

"Thanks again…"

"No problem! But you'll have to bear with me a bit here…"

* * *

><p>"Mathilde Williams, I swear I didn't mean to land us in detention."<p>

"It's fine, Gilbert, really!"

He and Alfred had succeeded in their plan: They soaked half the class in soda, including Grandpa Augustus, just as Assistant Principal Wolfgang (who insisted that he be called "Assistant Principal Volf-gong", as it was pronounced) walked in. Grandpa Augustus wouldn't have cared much; maybe a notation or something, since he got caught in it too.

That was just his luck.

Alfred and Kiku, the unlucky student that ended up his partner, were still wringing out their shirts in the bathroom. Theirs had backfired and exploded more on them than the targeted Russian.

The teacher in Detention that day skipped out. It was probably Mrs. Persephone, who could very well be asleep in the room and they'd never know. And thus, conversation was born.

"…I really thought that would work."

"Technically, it did work." Mathilde corrected. She was doodling on her binder, making sure she had something to do in case of a lull in talking.

He reached over with a pencil and started doodling as well.

Alfred and Kiku showed up a little while later, and Gilbert was almost hesitant to stop.


	2. Chapter 2

_This was intended to be a oneshot. Then it got a bigger plot._

_A note on Mathilde and Al's family: They're half-siblings, and Alfred is younger by less than a year. Her father isn't related by blood, and Francis is her cousin on her mother's side._

_Also: SO MUCH FLUFF. I kind of love it._

_Finally, Russia calls Belarus Natasha, which is the diminutive of Natalya. So she's referred to as either, depending on who's talking._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia._

* * *

><p>At first, Gilbert thought this would be easy. I mean, after all that, how could it not be?<p>

And then the next day was dull and boring.

That didn't do him any good at all.

Especially since he fell asleep in World History, and then forgot his lunch money so he had to immediately start begging for food from Francis and Antonio.

Which lead to the second confrontation with Francis.

"Gilbert, I will not let you make a fool of my little Mathilde." he enunciated.

Antonio piped in, "Wait, what? Who is Mathilde?"

Gilbert sighed, "I found a way to get into Alfred's party."

"Oh! That's—"

"He's taking advantage of my cousin!"

"You have a—?"

"I am not!"

Antonio scratched the back of his head, "Well, Gil—"

"He is! He's just taking her to the party and that's it!" Francis accused.

"Well that's not very…"

"Shh! She might hear you!" Gilbert said, trying to hush then Frenchman.

"Enough."

Antonio does not like to be interrupted.

"Gilbert, why exactly are you asking Francis' cousin out?" He said slowly, and oddly menacingly.

"Because he-!" started Francis.

"Francis. Let Gil answer."

"Because… Yeah, I want to go to the party, but…"

"But…?" prompted the Spaniard.

Gilbert sat back down, "She's also really nice and… and beautiful! Why wouldn't I want to date her?"

Francis looked a bit taken aback for a moment, but then started smiling. "I see."

Antonio added, "All better?"

The "Prussian" hesitantly responded, "Yeah, I think."

"Good, now I can get back to… Look! This chip looks exactly like Miguel Cervantes!"

* * *

><p>The next day he found that Francis and Antonio had moved to sit with the Vargas sisters. Francis was cut off from the girls by Antonio, but he likely wouldn't have tried anything with their "Nonno" as the principal. You never knew when he might just show up…<p>

Not that it mattered, since he couldn't sit with the rest of his trio.

And then he realized what they had done, promptly learning that Mathilde sat alone at lunch.

He sat down right in front of her, similar to history except she jumped slightly more.

….and ended up with soda down her jacket.

"I'm sorry! Here, let me help with that…" He said, helping her wipe off her sleeve.

"It's fine, really. This was just a hand-me-down, and I have a sweatshirt in my locker." She insisted, slipping the jacket over her head.

"Umm… Okay, well, I just thought I'd sit here." He said.

And then he realized he had nothing to talk about.

Okay, so he knew not to mention Alfred, or any parties… "So you and Francis are close?" He tried.

This caught her attention, "Umm, yes. I stayed with him a lot when we were younger. He's a lot like a second brother… Ah, you have a brother too, right?" Had Gilbert been any more attentive, he would have noticed she was steering the conversation away from herself.

"Yeah, I used to get Ludwig into so much trouble! I didn't mean to or anything, I mean, he just ran slower."

You see, Gilbert had never been a very attentive person.

But Mathilde was smiling; listening intently as he listed off a few "adventures" he had gone on. Chasing Roderich around, being chased around by Elizaveta, and he was particularly proud of his ingenious (read: awesome) plan for stealing cookies before dinner.

They were so engrossed in the sudden familiarity, lunch was forgotten.

Which turned what would be a fascinating lecture on classical composers (and all their eccentricity) into absolute torture.

Gilbert put his chin on his desk, arms wrapped over his stomach. He was in the middle of an unintentional staring contest with a long-haired cat sitting on the table in the front of the room. The cat was winning, and, as cats often do, didn't really notice.

He glanced at Mathilde to try to give her an apologetic smile—insisting he hadn't actually planned a smile—and found that she wasn't in nearly as bad a situation.

She was eating a granola bar. She was _eating_ a granola bar _right in front of the teacher._

_A granola bar._

This was one of the times Mathilde was incredibly thankful that no one noticed her.

She caught Gilbert's somewhat pitiful look, and slipped him part of the snack without a second thought. He smiled widely, munching on it gratefully when the teacher's back was turned. After class he got some more junk food to sneak during Chemistry.

Plus a protein bar, with chocolate chips in it because Mathilde couldn't possibly enjoy eating that bland (yet wonderfully satisfying) kind.

Not that he was thinking about her that much.

* * *

><p>The next day he knew he would have to make an actual move.<p>

He's never been one for the whole "We were friends for years and it just worked" sort of thing. Yeah, that could happen, but not everyone has to be in the friend-zone before they started going out. Plus, the party was on Tuesday and that didn't give him enough time for all that crap.

…who plans a party on a Tuesday, anyway?

And thus, it was time for some move-making.

He decided to brave the terror that was Ivan to meet her at her locker.

"Oh, hello Gilbert! You are looking slightly less like a street rat today." The Russian said with a smile.

"Yeah yeah, shut up Braginsky." Gilbert said, leaning against the locker.

"Are you here to talk to little Mathilde?" he asked, and Gilbert was pretty sure he was taking _way_ too long getting his books.

Gilbert rolled his eyes, "No, I'm here to talk to Yekaterina." He remembered the Russians older sister had a locker around there somewhere…

"I do not recommend that." The creeper was still smiling…

"Oh yeah? And why not?"

"Because I would hate to stain little Mathilde's locker. She is quite into cleanliness, you know."

And then he walked away, leaving Gilbert wide-eyed staring at nothing.

The threats just always sounded so _real_.

…and he never stuck around to prove if they were or not.

"…don't look so good."

"Oh, Mathilde!" he said, a bit startled. He hadn't even noticed her walk up. "I'm fine, no big deal!"

She looked at him hesitantly before motioning to get to her locker.

"I just thought I'd grace you with my presence and come say good morning!" He tried.

She smiled, ignoring the more… obnoxious side of that sentence. "Well, good morning."

"Yeah it is!"

"Ah, I'm going to go to class now."

"Okay, well, see you later!"

He slumped against the lockers and resisted the urge to slam his head against it. Instead he just put his hands over his eyes in exasperation.

"_Amigo_, why you are suddenly bad with women?" Antonio's voice came from next to him.

He punched the locker and spun around to face the Spaniard, gesticulating widely. "I don't know! I just want to ask her out! How hard can that possibly be?"

"Relax, just do something romantic. She'll get the message." Antonio responded.

"Easy for you to say, dating a hot Italian."

"Try telling her any part of that sentence." Antonio said, almost bitterly. "Anyway, it's just Francis' cousin, Alfred's sister."

"No it's not!" He insisted.

"Then who is it?" Antonio asked, for once he seemed to know what was going on.

"It's Mathilde!"

At this, the Spaniard looked almost surprised. He said quietly, "Oh, that's what Francis meant."

"What?"

"Nothing, just know you have my blessing~!"

* * *

><p>And so, he made himself ask her out that day.<p>

It just took a while.

As in, he had to chase her down about 30 seconds before she could leave.

We'll go back a bit…

First he tried to just get it over with by asking after first period.

"Ahhh! Someone, just keep her away from me!" a voice said, followed by a long string of Russian curses.

That was _never_ a good sign.

He thought he could dodge the siblings, and had Mathilde in his sights—she was just staying out of the way—but…

"Gilbert! Perfect, Natasha hates you!"

And then a Russian was hiding behind him.

"Hey, stupid… Let go of me!" His eyes widened as Natalya got closer.

"Nyet! Do not make me face her!" said Ivan, terrified.

"Brother, please do not make this so difficult…" Natalya didn't look sound as nice as she probably wanted to.

"Hey, hey there Natalya! You don't want this old lug, do you? I mean, you'd have to hurt the Awesome Me, and…"

"I do not care."

"…of course you don't, but I mean, look at this _face_."

"It is quite handsome, I know." But she wasn't looking at him…

"No, _my_ face, not… Umm, I mean…" That was not the best thing to correct her on.

* * *

><p>After they fled from Natalya into the nearest classroom, he somehow managed to convince Ivan to speak French and wear a sweatshirt with sunglasses for the rest of the day.<p>

So he decided to try again at lunch.

That led to him sitting with his usual group, his head face down on the table.

"I don't know what to doooo…"

"Here's an idea, ask her out." Francis said, picking at his food with a bored look.

Antonio nodded, "Seriously _amigo_, you need to just get this over with."

He looked up at the Spaniard, but didn't sit up. "Okay, how did you ask Lovina out?"

"Well, one day I just decided we'd been only sort of together for way too long, so I kissed her."

"And that worked?" Gilbert's surprised look was quite justified.

"Of course!"

Francis gave him a disapproving look, "Antonio…"

"Okay, she backhanded me. And I had the scar for months~!" He smiled broadly. "She agreed to go out with me sometime between cleaning the blood off my face and… the next tomato season."

Gilbert groaned and hit his head on the table.

Francis and Antonio exchanged a look, before the Frenchman started, "I'm glad to hear my cousin means that much to you."

This startled Gilbert, "I just want…" He slammed his hands on the table, stood up, and left the lunchroom.

Francis smiled. "Do you know what that means?"

Antonio responded with a questioning look.

"He didn't say he wanted to go to the party."

* * *

><p>Next was World History, during which he tried writing a note on a scrap of paper.<p>

_Mathilde,_

_Hey, do you want to go to Al's party with me?_

Yeah, that would work. A little old fashioned, but it was a fairly good idea.

He drew a smiley face on it just in case.

He folded it up, hiding it in the palm of his hand. He hoped his palm wasn't sweating enough to smudge the…

No way was he worrying about this.

It was just a tiny slip of paper.

...the bell rang.

"Gilbert, I would like to be your partner for this class."

"Go away, Braginsky."

"I need to work with someone I hate so Natalya won't notice me! She has a study hall this period and I need to hide."

Thus, Gilbert spent the entire time folding and refolding the paper, eyes fixed on the Canadian while Ivan did all the work.

He almost put the note in her locker after every other class that day.

But the next thing he knew, he was grabbing her arm just before she could step off the sidewalk to Alfred's truck.

She was a tad startled, recovering only slightly when she realized who it was.

Then she met his eyes, and there wasn't any sort of spark or anything. They didn't kiss or anything.

In fact, Gilbert just kind of stared open-mouthed for a minute before he pulled her off to the side.

Why was this such a big deal?

"Mathilde, do you want to go to Alfred's party with me?"

Her eyes widened, "Umm…" And then she smiled, "Sure!"

And thus, he succeeded.

Granted, it took him all day, but he definitely succeeded.


	3. Chapter 3

_Keep in mind this wasn't originally supposed to be multi-chaptered, so some stuff wasn't quite planned. Also, there's some slight inconsistency that I would love to fix at some point. (Regarding the fact they're in a small town, but the waitress remains unnamed.)_

_I love the Count of Monte Cristo. Anytime I criticize it here is entirely on accident, because I couldn't possibly do it on purpose. Go read it._

_Tuuli: Fem!Finland because I said so._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia._

* * *

><p>"But…"<p>

_Oh dear God what now?_

"…I dropped my phone in a puddle and I can't text or anything."

"Oh, is that all?" he asked. Yeah, it would mean sacrificing a weekend, but he was already going to the party with her!

Alfred_ had _to let him in. Roderich would be perfectly happy with Elizaveta, and he could just terrorize someone else. He could very well just team up with Antonio and Francis and make the party even more awesome! Plus, they'd each have a pretty date—though Antonio's situation was often questionable—so, the party would be amazing.

…but for this weekend, what was he going to do? He felt a little un-awesome just taking Mathilde to the party.

"Well, I'll see you on Monday. If something comes up, I'll text Alfred or Francis."

She sighed, "Most people do anyway."

Alright, he normally hated the whole 'teenage angst' thing, but Mathilde made it look so _adorable_.

_There's no taking back that thought, is there?_

So he just went with it, "Well then they're too un-awesome to have your number anyway."

"That's not what I—"

"I know." He hoped his smile looked less sheepish than he felt. In one motion he placed a hand on her hair and pecked her on the cheek.

He hurried away after that, not ignorant to the blush that spread over her cheeks.

* * *

><p>The next day he received a text message from Francis.<p>

**Alfred asked me to invite you. Don't spread it around, please.**

So he responded with: **Awesome!**

The rest of the day was spent texting prank ideas with Antonio and Francis. He didn't feel like getting out anywhere. Ludwig made him help clean, though he spent most of his time on the bird cage, talking to Gilbird while he worked.

"You know, I really like this girl. Don't tell anyone, though. She's pretty awesome, and adorable. I can't believe I didn't notice her before." He rambled, "You won't tell anyone, right? I mean, I guess I'm still gonna break up with her after all this is over." He sighed, "What do you think?"

The little yellow bird had fallen asleep.

"Thanks bud, I knew you'd be there for me."

He texted Francis again that evening: **Hey, can you tell Mattie to meet me tmr that little café?**

Later on he would deny actually waiting for the response: **She says she'll be there at 1. You are lucky we all live so close!**

**I know, comes in handy.**

He woke up at noon, just like always on weekends. He got dressed and grabbed a snack, lounging on the couch.

Ludwig came in a few minutes later, "Finally up, I see."

"Duh. We're not in the military." Gilbert replied, not looking up.

"I heard about the party."

"You invited?"

"Feliciana wants me to go." Ludwig sighed, "It's no big deal."

"Yes it is." Gilbert said, "Alfred's parties are always awesome! I can't miss it."

Ludwig looked at him, a bit confused. Gilbert realized he didn't know about the plan or anything, but didn't try to amend his comment. He went back to flipping channels, and Ludwig left the room.

Gilbert went ahead and said, "Hey, I've got a date in like fifteen minutes. I'm just biking down to the café, so call if you need anything awesome."

"Before you leave can you help me clean the…"

Gilbert decided it couldn't hurt to get there early.

…or maybe it could.

First he hit a piece of glass on his bike and managed to get a flat tire.

He still got there in time (he could thank Ludwig later for making him leave early), and wasn't particularly tired. Mathilde hadn't gotten there yet, so he just leaned his bike against and slipped inside to sit by the window at one of the few small tables.

He didn't even notice her walk in until she sat down across from him.

"Oh, hey Mattie!" he said.

Her face fell when she realized he hadn't seen her at first, but brushed it off quickly. "Hey... Did you order or anything?"

"Nah, I was just waiting for you!" He said, and she felt better about that.

A waitress came over and took their orders: A roast beef sandwich for Gilbert and a grilled cheese for Mathilde. The waitress gave them a knowing smile as she left. Mathilde blushed and Gilbert looked away,

Desperate to avoid the sheer awkwardness, Mathilde tried to start a conversation. "I wonder whose bike that was, with the flat tire…" It was just an observation, not even worth being used in conversation, but….

Gilbert looked away again.

"Oh! I'm sorry; did you have trouble getting here?"

"Nah, just hit some glass. No big deal, really." he said, unrightfully embarrassed about his predicament.

Of course, another part of his definition of awesome was _not _ending up walking home from a date.

Well, it wasn't _technically _much of a date. He just… wanted to see her and here she is!

_Crap, that's a date._

Okay, even though he had just rolled out of bed and she was wearing a sweatshirt and loose jeans, it could probably still be considered a date. So he stopped thinking about it.

"Oh, if you're sure…" she said, but then the waitress came back and she focused on her plate.

"You know, I think I actually did okay on that history test." Gilbert said through a mouthful of food.

Mathilde perked up, "That's good. I know you were a bit worried."

"Well I'm getting a smoothie." Gilbert said, motioning to the waitress. The little café was usually much busier on weekends (primarily for take-out, though), but they had apparently caught it just in time and it wasn't busy at all.

They both got a banana smoothie, but then…

Mathilde attracts spills, she thinks.

"Crap, now I have to do laundry again…" She said, pulling off her banana covered sweatshirt.

Gilbert was almost concerned, but then she just started laughing.

"Of course something had to happen."

And then they were both just laughing like idiots. It was quite cheesy, actually. Gilbert just wanted to laugh with Mathilde, and she was happy to comply.

They quieted after a minute.

"I need to get going; I need to work on that paper for Chemistry."

"There's a paper in Chemistry?"

Mathilde sighed, but with a smile, "It's due Wednesday. I just won't have time Monday or Tuesday."

Gilbert relaxed noticeably. "Oh…" He paused, "On a scale from one to Ivan, how stalker is it to ask what your plans are?"

"Probably about a four. Monday is hockey with Ivan, Berwald, Tuuli, Mathias, and Erikur. Tuesday is the party."

It was one of those unspoken things that Mathilde could play hockey with the best of the guys, and Tuuli was generally just an adorable beast when she wanted to be.

There are a lot of those unspoken things.

"Right. Party on Tuesday."

"Al said something about a late invi—"

"Oh yeah that was just a little thing no big deal really." The narrator would like to point out that there are no commas in that sentence.

"Ah, okay then…" Mathilde said, finishing her smoothie.

They went outside, and Gilbert looked at the wreckage of his bike and sighed. "Well, I think I've beaten your smoothie-d sweatshirt."

Mathilde pursed her lips and thought for a moment, wrapped aforementioned sweatshirt around her middle. "Here, just try mine for a second."

"But—"

"Try it."

"…yes ma'am."

So Gilbert swung a leg over the red bike, finding that it was about the same height as his own. "Yeah, I can ride it, but…"

"Wait a second…" Mathilde sat on the back, a hand braced on Gilbert's shoulder. "Now, you just go to your house."

"Uhh…"

"I'll bike back to my place. No big deal, right?"

"Are you—"

"Gilbert, I can ride a bike back to my house from there." It took a lot of effort, and her voice shook a lot, but for once someone actually heard her.

"I was going to say, 'Are you sure you don't want to hold on tighter?'." Gilbert almost blushed the first time he started, but he was smiling by this point.

Instead, Mathilde blushed. "Oh…" She wrapped an arm around his chest.

After several instances where they almost fell over and much cursing in three languages, Mathilde had stopped blushing so terribly. This time her face was red from laughing every time they had to stop and regain balance.

They both slipped off their respective seats at the driveway, Mathilde climbing back on where Gilbert had been a moment ago.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" He said, hopeful.

"Tomorrow's Monday, so yeah…"

"Just say yes."

She smiled, "Of course."

He kissed her on the cheek, and this time he waited to see her blush.

It had been an odd day so far, with far too much blushing and awkwardness for it to be a date Gilbert believed he had been on.

But he was glad he had.

It also thoroughly messed up his schedule for the rest of the day and he forgot to call Antonio to bring his truck to pick up the bike.

…he forgot a few other things to, but they'd hit him eventually.

Particularly the whole "his turn to make dinner" thing

…yeah, that wasn't one of his best moments.

* * *

><p>School on Monday brought back a familiar normality. Alfred was talking to people about the party all day, but Gilbert had thankfully avoided any discussion of it.<p>

So he went through the motions of the morning. In Literature he dozed, because no one could effectively read _The Count of Monte Cristo _that early. Francis usually explained it to him. In Algebra II he tried to pay a little attention, but that went over like a lead balloon when the numbers started to blur together.

At lunch he felt a bit like a zombie, but stumbled in and sat down with Francis and Antonio to understand that godforsaken French novel.

"Alright, Dantés is still after revenge, so he…"

"Wait, this guy isn't Dantés, is he?"

"Gilbert, this entire book is an elaborate ruse. Dantés has a few disguises, this is one of them." Francis tried to explain.

Gilbert scoffed, "Seems like a lot."

"Ah, _amigo_, I don't think you have much to say about elaborate ruses." Antonio piped in. "I mean, you did ask Mathilde to the dance. And now look!"

"Look at what?" Gilbert asked.

Antonio looked confused as well, "Ah, never mind."

Francis started, "I must say, I'm surprised one of your plans actually worked."

"Yeah, I mean, I'm surprised too. Do you think it really matters now that I just asked her so I could get into the party?" Gilbert asked.

"Ah, why do—"

"What!" a shocked, but still ever so quiet, voice said.

School on Monday brought disaster.

Gilbert spun around, shocked. "Mathilde, wait, I can explain!"

"Stop sounding so cliché! Forget it; I don't really care what you sound like anymore." There were tears in her eyes. She turned to her cousin and managed to say, "Francis, I'm leaving."

And she did.

Francis and Antonio were shocked. Gilbert had gotten over that a long time ago. Now he just wanted to follow her out.

But he didn't.

* * *

><p>He almost just went to her house, but Ludwig was in the car and he didn't want his little brother to see him so un-awesome.<p>

He found himself flopped on his bed, staring at Gilbird as he poked at the bars of his cage.

He had no idea what to do next.

Gilbert pulled out his cellphone and dialed Francis' number.

"_Alo?"_

"Hey, is Mathilde there?"

"_I'm sorry, she's currently sobbing in her room about some…_âne _who needs__ to _brule en enfer_.__"_

A pit settled in Gilbert's stomach, "Really?"

"_No, I'm not really sorry."_

"Francis, _I'm _the one who's sorry!" Gilbert tried. "What I did was stupid and… un-awesome."

"_Gilbert, I told you not to hurt her, and you did." _He heard the Frenchman sigh, _"She really liked you. She'll get over it soon. I'll see you tomorrow.'_

"But I—"

Francis hung up.

"…I liked her too."

Gilbert let his head hit his pillow again, sighing.

_Wait a second… The Awesome Gilbert doesn't act like an angsty teenager!_

Apparently, the Awesome Gilbert decides he might as well get over it and go to the party.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: This is technically the first multi-chaptered story I've finished._

_Wow._

_Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia._

* * *

><p>Things went back to normal after that.<p>

Technically, Gilbert's plan had worked with no repercussions and he didn't even have to date anyone.

…

Yeah, that's not how things work at all.

Gilbert tried to go through his day, but it seemed like he was the only one. Francis spoke to him almost coldly, and Antonio's attempts at friendly banter fell flat. It had happened before during a lull in their days, tests occupying their minds.

Antonio's attempts included:

"Hey, do you want a churro?"

"Should we plan something for the pep rally on Friday?"

"…guys, I might move over to sit with Femke. And _Lars_."

"Would I look good as a blonde?"

"So, Lovina and I were thinking about joining the circus as lion tamers."

Aforementioned Italian heard that and slapped him on the back of the head with a curse, effectively shutting him up.

It must be said that this time Gilbert was deliberately avoiding conversation for once in his life, and Francis didn't really mind at all.

Their reasons were very different, but the results were the same.

Gilbert knew if he mentioned any of their plans for that evening it would come out that he was still planning on going to Alfred's.

Francis felt rightfully betrayed.

Antonio felt rightfully bored.

Anyway, everything just had that strained feeling, though they all knew it would blow over fairly quickly. Sure, the rumors were already spreading, saying Gilbert had dumped Mathilde before the first date and the like.

Technically, a few of them were true.

It didn't matter though. A week long "relationship" wasn't all that exciting. Gilbert would be down on dating options for a little while, but strangely he didn't really mind.

And so things were normal, but they really weren't.

* * *

><p>Somehow, through all of that, Gilbert remembered something. He still needed to call Antonio about his bike, and he didn't want to wait in case it rained or someone decided they really wanted an old bike with a flat tire.<p>

Now Gilbert could drive. In fact, he drove to school every morning. …but his car couldn't fit a bike in it. Plus he could easily bike to Francis' or Antonio's house and not waste gas. Then he would have to get a job. If he got a job that would mean fewer parties, then he wouldn't be as awesome anymore.

…so he had to call Antonio.

"Hey, I left my bike at that café the other day. Can you drop by and help me out?" He asked, crossing his fingers.

"_Yeah sure, _amigo_. Just a minute."_

Sure enough, Antonio's old pick-up truck appeared in the driveway in no time at all. Gilbert tossed on a coat and went outside, yelling to Ludwig that he'd be back later. He worried when the Prussian didn't tell him when he left.

So he clambered into the red truck, seating himself in the small cabin next to the Spaniard.

"So we're just picking up your bike, right?" Antonio asked, pulling away from the curb. "You're not planning any tricks for me, I hope."

"Course not. Just want my bike back. It's an awesome bike, you know." Gilbert said, smirking.

"Oh yeah, I mean, you have only repainted it twice and it's only broken down three times…"

"See!"

"…in the last year."

Gilbert glared at him and without saying a word or taking his gaze off him, reached up and pulled a piece of the ceiling out.

"Touché."

So they reached the café, and Gilbert climbed out and opened the truck bed…

"Dude, why are there so many tomatoes back here?"

Indeed, there were about three crates of unwashed tomatoes piled in the back of the truck.

"I just picked them!" Antonio responded, leaning his head out the window.

Gilbert shrugged and lifted his bike in easily, making sure not to hit the crates, lest he earn the wrath of Antonio sans tomatoes.

Antonio sans tomatoes is a very bad entity.

He clambered back into the truck. "Hey, I'd hate to be a fifth wheel, but do you think there'll be space in the car?"

"What?"

"Yeah, I mean, since we'll all be heading to the party. You and Lovina are still going with Luddy and Feli, right?" Gilbert asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

"You're going?" Antonio said, glancing from the road.

"Why not?"

Antonio stopped the car on the side of the road.

"Gilbert, you can't think that—"

"My plan worked? Well it did. I managed it." Gilbert said. He didn't really have a point to defend, but he was going to defend it. Maybe this was that stubbornness Ludwig was always talking about.

Antonio glared at him, "You could have apologized."

"I tried, and she didn't want to talk to me."

Antonio had to admit it; he knew from Francis –who had been at Alfred's that evening– that Mathilde was upset and wouldn't talk. "You still don't have to go without her."

"Well I can't exactly go with her." Gilbert responded.

"She's staying at Francis' during the party, we'll just head over and—"

"She doesn't want to talk to me. And you know what; I don't want to talk to her that much either." It was a lie, but apparently it was believable, because Antonio started the car with a scoff.

It hadn't been much farther, and Antonio apparently had one more thing to say. "You can't just do this sort of thing, Gilbert."

"Antonio, I'm going to the goddamn party!"

The Spaniard didn't even look at him as he got out of the car, unlocking the doors for Gilbert. He then went around, pulled out the bike, and tossed it onto the lawn. Well, more like slammed it into the grass.

But he didn't tense up like he normally did, actually sighing with a blank look. "I'm telling you: Know you shouldn't show up."

And then he drove off.

The Prussian went over to the bike. "Great, idiot broke the chain…"

* * *

><p>Gilbert showed up at the party just as it was getting good. Francis was flirting with every girl he saw, Antonio was hanging around Lovina; Elizaveta was trying to get Roderich to dance like a normal human being. Ludwig pushed past him to find Feliciana.<p>

Gilbert lasted about five minutes.

Then he was grabbed, Francis on one side and Antonio on the other. They dragged him out to Francis' car and tossed him in the back seat. He felt a sharp pain on his cheek and noted that Lovina had come along.

Before he knew it, they were driving.

"Hey, guys-!" He yelped, pawing at the door. No good there, with the wonderful invention that is child locks. "You can't just… just kidnap me!"

"They already did, stupid." Lovina said.

_Oh wonderful, they've stuck me back here with the crazy one._

Francis hummed some too-happy tune, "Oh yes and I'm sure you can guess where we're going."

"You're not seriously going to… Come on! I just want to go to the party!"

"Quit whining." Lovina said without missing a beat.

"Gilbert, you're going to apologize and tell her you still like her." Antonio responded, "We're not in the business of hurting poor girls."

"Wait, what was that?"

"Uh, we don't want to hurt girls?"

"The first part." Gilbert specified. "What is that '_still like her'_?"

"_Mon ami, _we know. Why do you think I let you date her?" Francis answered, glancing back.

Gilbert looked down at the floor of the car. He had almost been ready to just date Mathilde, even almost asked about it… Was that really as stupid as he thought? What if he did really like her?

What if he just made a giant mistake and the one person who didn't see it, was himself?

For once, he couldn't really be proud of coming to a deep and meaningful conclusion.

Lovina slapped him on the head, "Pay attention; we're there."

He hit his head against the window, practically falling out when Francis opened the door. "Oof!"

"Should have worn a seatbelt." Francis chastised briefly before dragging him to his feet.

"Quit manhandling me…" Gilbert struggled against his grip, "You… You Frenchman!"

"Oh my, I'm so offended…" muttered Francis, leading him up to the front porch.

"You should be." Lovina noted dryly before shutting the car door again.

"Hey, I can just get up and leave, you know." Gilbert said, letting himself be sat down on a wooden bench.

Francis knocked on the door anyway, fiddling with his cellphone in one hand. "You've really chased her up a tree. The least you can do is apologize."

And then he just left Gilbert there, sitting on the porch.

He looked down at his hands and muttered a curse. _I can just tell her sorry and things will go back to normal, or…_

_Or I could actually admit something deep to myself for once_

The door opened, and Gilbert's head shot up to meet Mathilde's wide gaze, which likely matched his own.

He stood up, too quickly and without the supposed "awesome-ness" he had hoped for. "Mathilde… I just wanted to—"

She slammed the door.

And right after he had made a decent decision for once in his life.

His shoulders fell, but he knocked on the door again anyway. "Mathilde? Mattie! Hey, can I at least try to apologize?"

The door locked.

"Alright well, I'm not gonna stalk you or anything, so you don't have to hear my awesome apology." He tried, and turned around to leave.

Mathilde poked her head out shyly. Her eyes were a tad puffier than when they had met his only minutes ago, and he wanted to slap himself for accidentally making her cry again.

"…go ahead." She said; her voice as quiet and strong as always.

He smiled inwardly, but tried to stay serious. Serious could be awesome too. "Ah, well, you see…" Flustered was a step down, but not bad. "I'm sorry. I don't know what anyone expects me to do. I guess I should have brought you flowers, or a romantic poem, or some crap like that… But all I can say is that I'm really, really sorry." He looked up in thought, "Should I like, explain everything that happened? I mean, I'm sure you don't have the full story."

"Please do." She was more comfortable now, leaning against the doorframe.

"Okay well, it was like this: I _did_ need to date you to get into Al's party. That's why I got to know you. But now, I'm glad I did it, because…" He stuttered, "You're an awesome person. You really are."

And then Mathilde crashed into his chest, hugging him tightly. It took him a moment, but he hugged her back with a smile.

It was all quite sweet, really.

She muttered something into his shirt.

"Didn't quite catch that."

She pulled away, "I said, thank you."

"Why?" He asked, genuinely confused.

She hugged him again, "For all this. Even if Francis and Antonio were behind it, I'm glad you came."

"So what are we now?" The albino asked. "Other than Gilbert and Mathilde. And awesome."

Mathilde smiled broadly, "We are the awesome Gilbert and Mathilde, of course."

"That is the most cliché thing I have ever heard, and I love the sound of it." He said, and kissed her head. "Now come on, I heard there's an amazing party going on…"

Her face fell.

"…hosted by a certain Prussian who has money for a late, awesome fast-food dinner."

And then they were laughing like idiots again.


End file.
